English Monologue

This is my monologue of Nwyoe (Okonkwo's father) talking to his friend Okoye.

Okoye, my closest friend, my friend of many years. Please just listen to me, hear me out. I promise, I really do promise you that I will return the two hundred cowries that I have borrowed, but I just have far bigger debts to pay. Do you think I have a bottomless pocket? It’s not like they grow in the yards of maize. If they did, I would surely give back what I owe.  I work hard at my own pace, why should we rush our lives? All I see are people running back and forth and working until the sun has gone to bed. Insanity! A failure?! I am definitely not, how could you say such a thing? I live my life with merriment, and I wouldn’t change a thing. Is that what people think of me, lazy and improvident? I have spent my life playing my flute; it brings inner peace to all who hear it. That is an achievement is it not? To be one of the best in Umofia. Look at yourself, you spend your time playing the ogene. You are just like me. You have great pride in your music. Sure I may quiver at the sight of blood, and I have not gone to war, but that does not make me any less of a man than you. Far from it.  Is that how my young Okonkwo thinks? Is he not proud of me? He has been so successful in his short life, more than I have. Is he ashamed? Ashamed of being like me? I am not a father that a son should be ashamed of; I’m just different from the other men in the tribe. No not an agbala, just different values, different morals. Oh how can I prove to Okonkwo that I am worthy of his pride?! There is nothing, nothing I can do now that will change his mind. His views on me seem set in stone. I am old and weary, there is no more time for me to change my ways, though I want to...for Okonkwo’s sake. How hard it must be to have a father be called such names, when he knows it is not true. At least I hope he believes in me. Who knows when my time will come to pass on, maybe then he will be grateful...

True Heroism Comes From Within

What are your first thoughts when the word hero comes to mind? What really makes someone a hero? Is it the super powers, or maybe the muscle. Personally, when I think hero, my mind goes straight to the cape and tight pants. But what happens when we take our thinking a level deeper? Can we really define what a hero truly is?

In my original multi paragraph I stated that, although Okonkwo had the qualities of a hero, he was not a true hero. I stick by my statement and don't intend on changing my views, though I have completed the novel. Throughout my reading, I was hoping that Okonkwo would prove himself as the hero he is named. When he had taken is own life, he had lost his pride and any heroism he had. That was when I had decided that I was right in my thinking. No hero would commit suicide, even if one had done it as a last resort to an unchanging conflict.

Oxford's dictionary definition of a hero: a person, typically a man, who is admired for their courage, outstanding achievements, or noble qualities

According to the Oxford's Dictionary Okonkwo is a hero. He is admired by his tribe for his great courage when going to war, his achievements of being the best wrestler in Umofia, and his many noble qualities. In my opinion, Okonkwo is far from a hero. Yes he has all the qualities of a perceived hero, but that doesn't make anyone definitely heroic. I believe in the everyday hero, the type of person who doesn't look for gratitude when they do something good. The type of person who will stand up for those who can't do so themselves.

You don't need tight pants, or muscles galore, its what's inside that counts. Heart, hero's have the greatest hearts. You can't be one without that soul within.

Rollercoaster of Fate

In "Oliver Twist" by Charles Dickens, the main conflicts all revolve around the classic story of Good vs. Evil. The prominent conflict is, where should Oliver be placed in society? Although he is but young and innocent, Oliver is almost "tested" by a higher force as to whether he belongs with the cruel or the kind. The cruel being Fagin and his pickpocket gang, whilst the kind being the open arms of both Mr. Brownlow and Rose Maylie. Oliver finds himself not quite knowing where he should fit, and even when he tries to decide, destiny pushs him on his way. It takes a lot of soul for someone so small to withstand all the change and encounters that Oliver faces. I think that really shows that he has the courage plus the character to do and be what ever he dreams of. The question remains, will the good-hearted truly prevail in society or will dark forces cause them to surrender to a pitiful life? 

This does remind me of life and how everyone is faced with choices but some are simply made for us through fate. We may choose with our mind to do one thing, but end up doing something completely different. There must be something guiding our paths and placing each one of us where we truely belong. Im not sure what it is, but I believe its there.

A question of identity

"Indeed, the stranger has unusual customs. The white man held the paper like a sacred thing. His hands shook, and we mistrusted him... For how many moons will the stranger be among us?" (Vera 43)

The stranger still lives among the people of Africa, though the colonial political authority has left. Yet I wonder if the town elder speaking in the above passage would recognize current African authorities as strangers or countrymen. Could he relate to today's government officials and understand the languages which they speak? Would he feel at home in an African country with borders defined by European imperial powers without regard to the various ethnic nations involved? Post-colonial theory attempts to explain problems such as these, yet it does so almost exclusively in the languages of the European colonial powers.

Postcolonialism deals with cultural identity in colonised societies: the dilemmas of developing a national identity after colonial rule; the ways in which the knowledge of the colonised people has been generated and used to serve the coloniser's interests; and the ways in which the coloniser's literature has justified colonialism via images of the colonised as a perpetually inferior people, society and culture.
When the Europeans came travelling down to Africa, they took hold of the land, cultures and people. They found that the way of life for these many tribal communities was not only uncivilised and wrong, but pure evil. The Europeans set out to assimilate the new colonies into what was "right for mankind". Though assimilation took place, racism was used constantly; unfortunately this hasn't seemed to have changed over the many years.

This political cartoon makes fun of the fact that Africans are supposedly uneducated when compared to someone of western society. The underlying message is that the Africans may have put on new clothes and acted with more sophistication, but they are still "different"; assimilation doesnt work. They are still not as smart, still not as beautiful, still lesser than the white man. The cartoon is saying that it is all an act and that you cannot cover up what was previously there. Due to postcolonialism there is now this question of what is the african image and whether it is all fake.

racism is horrible and needs to stop-whether it is a joke or intentional we shouldn't be laughing